


A Spur-of-the-moment Idea

by dragonflyMerri



Category: Brolin, Merlin (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-23
Updated: 2012-03-23
Packaged: 2017-11-02 10:26:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/367950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonflyMerri/pseuds/dragonflyMerri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bradley really misses his best mate Colin. And really, Armagh isn't THAT far from London....</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Spur-of-the-moment Idea

As Bradley pressed the doorbell, he began to have doubts. Perhaps this wasn’t the best idea he had ever had, but dammit, he hadn’t seen Colin in over a month and he quite missed him.

The door started opening and Bradley pasted his best ‘impress the parents’ smile on his face. His smile turned genuine when he saw the woman who answered the door. She had dark hair like her son’s and, upon seeing him, her eyes widened in the same way as her son’s did.

“Bradley?”

“Mrs Morgan. How are you ma’am?”

“I’m fine thank you.” Her expression changed to one of growing suspicion, again, remarkably like the expression her son often wore.

“What are you doing here Bradley?” she asked, in the same lilting accent as her son, only heavier.

“Well, I was looking for Colin. Thought I’d pop by for a visit.” Bradley gave her a beaming grin.

“You’ve come for a visit?” Mrs Morgan’s eyebrows rose to her hairline, just like her son’s did.

“Well, I was in the neighbourhood.”

“Who is it, love?” A male voice asked from the depths of the house, before a tall, thin man with blue eyes joined Mrs Morgan at the door.

“Bradley!” Mr Morgan sounded just as surprised as his wife had.

“Mr Morgan, how are you sir?” Bradley held out his hand, and shook hands with Colin’s dad. Colin’s blue eyes stared out from his father’s face.

“Bradley’s come to visit our Colin. Says he was in the neighbourhood.” Mrs Morgan informed her husband.

“Are you now? All the way from London?” Mr Morgan asked. It was eerie how much the suspicion in his voice was often echoed in his son’s voice. Colin really was the product of his parents, Bradley mused.

“Right.” Bradley nodded amiably and made a show of peering in the house. “So Colin. Is he in? Can I see him?”

“Ah well, our Colin’s not here right now.” Mrs Morgan replied as she settled against the door jam, the suggestion of a smirk on her face. Bradley had seen that same smirk many times before on her son’s face.

“Oh,” Bradley’s face fell. He hadn’t considered Colin not being here. Bugger. Now what was he going to do.

“He’s at the footie game.” Mr Morgan took pity on the crestfallen man who suddenly looked so lost.

“Footie game?” Bradley immediately perked up. “Well, I can find him there, although I didn’t think he was much of a fan. He doesn’t usually watch us play during filming.”

“Oh he’s not watching,” clarified Mrs Morgan. “He’s playing.” A suggestion of a smirk lurked around her mouth, a mouth that Bradley realized she has passed on to her son.

“Playing?? Colin? He’s playing footie??? Bradley wasn’t sure he heard right. That Irish accent tended to trip him up sometimes.

“Um-hmm” Mrs Morgan nodded. “With his old team.”

“He has a team?” Bradley’s voice definitely did not rise up an octave.

“Oh yes, our Colin was quite a good player when he was in school” Mrs Morgan informed him.

“He has trophies,” Mr Morgan piped up helpfully.

“Trophies?” Damn, Bradley really had to get his voice back down to his normal octave.

“His team tended to do quite well in the play-offs. And our Colin has a MVP trophy from his last year with the team.”

“Colin was the Most Valuable Player? In football??” Bradley cleared his throat in an effort to drop his voice again.

“I’m taking it he’s never told you about his playing,” Mrs Morgan asked. Was there a hint of pity in her voice?

“No, no he’s never said a word. Not one word. Never said a single word.”

“Ah well,” Mr Morgan nodded, “That would be our Colin then, wouldn’t it? Always private about his business.”

The three people stood silently, nodding at the truth of that statement.

“So, would you be wanting to go and see our Colin playing then?” Asked Mrs Morgan.

“Oh, er…yes. Yes, I would definitely like to see him playing.”

“Right then, you’ll be needing directions to the park.” Mr Morgan stepped out of the doorway and proceeded to give Bradley directions, complete with lots of pointing and gestures indicating turns.

 

****

 

When Bradley arrived at the park, the game was in full swing. He joined one of the clusters of people watching the game and soon found himself immersed in the game. He immediately found Colin chasing down the ball, so the blue team became his team. The teams were evenly matched and the ball travelled back and forth in equal measure.

The spectators around Bradley were supportive, but also given to commentary on the various players and their performance. As far as Bradley could tell, they were also cheering on both teams with equal vigor. When Colin got a break-away, the cheers rose, and when he lost the ball to a player from the white team, that player received the cheers. It seemed to Bradley that he was the only one cheering just for Colin’s team – or in truth, just for Colin.

It was about 20 minutes later that Colin raced down the field, expertly kicking the ball before him, not 10 feet from where Bradley was standing. Bradley erupted in cheers, calling to Colin to keep going.

Something about hearing a distinctly British voice calling his name caused Colin to look up, and then completely loose his focus. He staggered in his run and it was all that a player from the white team needed. The white team player dove at Colin, hitting him square on the back and both players went down, Colin skidding a remarkable distance on his stomach.  
The ref’s whistle blew at the same time as Bradley’s horrified “Colin!”

Completely forgetting himself, Bradley ran to the rescue. He had spent four years watching out for and protecting his friend and castmate, and now, because of him, Colin had done a spectacular face-plant right in front of him. 

The white team player rolled off Colin, stood up, then bent to offer Colin a hand up. Bradley’s headlong rush to Colin’s side pushed the white team player aside, and Bradley fell to his knees beside Colin.

“Col – oh my god, are you ok? Are you hurt? Where does it hurt?”

“BRADLEY????? What the feck are you doing here??” Colin yelled at him, taking out his frustration on his aborted run out on the distraught blonde. Colin started to stand, then grunted and fell back into a sitting position. He raised his knee and surveyed the blood trailing down his leg.

“Your leg’s bleeding Col.”

“I know it’s fecking bleeding you cioch* (tit)! What the hell are you doing on the field?”

“You fell”

“I didn’t fecking fall you cac* (shit). I was doing fine until you yelled!”

“I was just cheering you on.”

“You’re not even supposed to be here, ciach ort* (damn you)”

“You OK Colin?” The ref came jogging up. He peered at Colin’s knee. “You’re out. Go get that knee looked after before you bleed all over my field”

He then addressed Bradley .“Hey sunshine, if you’re finished fussing over the boyfriend, can we get the game going?”

“Feis ort, Ross!” Colin growled at the ref, then struggled to his feet, with Bradley trying unsuccessfully to support him.

“Bradley – leave off!” Colin shrugged him off then limped over to the bench. The on-call first aid attendant came jogging over. Colin put his leg on the bench for the attendant to check.

“What are you doing here Bradley?”

“Well, I came to see you play. You never told me you play footie. Why didn’t you tell me? We could have played together, you could join in with the lads on set.”

“Not the point Bradley – what are you doing here?”

“I told you, I came to see..”

“What are you doing here – in Armagh?”

“Well, I thought I’d come and see you. Happened to be in the neighbourhood.”

“In the neighbourhood? In Northern Ireland? What are you doing here Bradley?”

“Well I wasn’t in Northern Ireland, at least not this morning. I was in Dublin and thought I’d go for a drive.”

“A drive? Argh!” Colin let out a string of swear words as the first aid attendant briskly swabbed clean his bleeding knee. Sucking in a firming breath, he tried again. “A drive? From Dublin??”

“Yes?”

“What are you doing here Bradley?”

“You keep asking that, I told you, I…”

“What are you doing in Ireland? Why are you in Ireland?” Colin yelled.

“Ah that. Well, I was bored and thought to myself, ‘I haven’t seen Col in a while, think I’ll go visit him.’”

“So you hopped on a plane to Ireland?”

“Well, thought I’d tour around a bit too. Dublin is quite lovely, isn’t it?”

“Again, not the point, Bradley. How did you find me here?”

“Told you… I drove up from Dub..”

“Not Armagh, here – at the game.”

“Your mum and dad said you’d be here.”

“You stopped by the house?”

“Yes I did. Your mum and dad did seem a bit puzzled..”

Bradley was cut off again with a string of Irish swear words as the first aid attendant dabbed antiseptic on Colin’s skinned knee.

“Colin!” Bradley was genuinely shocked. Colin hardly ever swore and certainly not so fluidly.

“What the hell are you doing here Bradley???” Colin hissed thru gritted teeth.

“Col, why do you keep asking that? I told you I was just out for a drive and thought I’d drop in for a visit.”

Colin scrubbed his hands through his hair in frustration. “Bradley. You live in London. You are in Ireland. In Armagh. Because you were bored??? How does that even make sense??”

Bradley had the grace to grimace. “Yeah, well, suppose it doesn’t. But it made sense at the time. Sort of a spur-of-the-moment decision, you know? And hey, it worked out well. Here you are, here I am. I found out you play footie. It’s all good, yeah?”

Colin was looking at him like he had grown a second head. With a bandage stuck on over his skinned knee, Colin sat on the bench and Bradley followed.

“So what now? You’ve seen me. You planning to drive back to Dublin? Fly back to London?”

“Well eventually. But I thought we could go out for a meal, maybe hang out for a bit. You don’t have any other plans do you?”

“You mean aside from this game?” Colin pointed to the field where the play continued.

“Well, after the game of course.”

Colin sighed. “No Bradley, I don’t have any plans, at least, nothing that can’t be broken.”

Bradley grinned his trademark grin – one that lit up his whole face as if the sun was shining out his eyes. “Brilliant. Lunch then, yeah?”

“Lunch then, yeah.” Colin agreed.

Bradley nodded, pleased with himself.

A shadow fell on them and the two looked up to see a young girl, no more than nine, staring at Bradley.

“You’re Brahdley Jims, aren’t you?” The young girl asked with a lilting Irish accent that sounded just like Colin had sounded four years ago when Bradley had first met him

“Yes, yes I am. Did you want an autograph?” Bradley smiled at the young fan.

“No. I’ve just come to warn you off our Colin.” The young girl folded her arms and scowled back at Bradley.

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve come to warn you off our Colin. We don’t like how you treat him.”

“How I treat Colin? I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

“Well you’re quite mean, aren’t you? You’re not a very nice person.”

There was a choked snort from the direction of Colin.

“What? You don’t even know me.” Bradley gaped at her.

“Yes I do. We see you on the telly every week when we watch our Colin’s show. You’re very mean to him and I think you should stop.”

“The show. Well you know, that’s just Arthur…”

“There’s no excuse for such behaviour, me mam says.”

“But Arthur..”

“Oh aye, the king. You would think as a king you would know better, not be such a bully.” The young girl planted her fists on her hips and glared.

Bradley definitely did not hear the smothered snort of laughter coming from Colin.

“I’m not – that is, Arthur is not a bully, he’s just…”

“Oh aye, you're a bully all right. A big British bully picking on our Colin. You should be ashamed of yourself.” The young girl wagged her finger at Bradley in admonishment.

“Ashamed? Wait...”

“And now you show up here and our Colin is hurt again.”

Bradley looked over at Colin’s bandaged knee, a flash of guilt crossing his face. Colin pulled a suitably sorrowful face as he checked his knee.

“Our Colin saves your sorry arse every week. We just all think you should be more appreciative of him.”

Beside him, Bradley could feel Colin’s shoulders shaking, and a quick glance to the side showed Colin sitting with a hand clasped over his mouth, eyes fixed firmly on his bandaged knee.

“Well, young lady....” Bradley began, taking a deep breath.

“Me name’s Meg”

“Well young Meg, I shall take your advise under consideration and try to treat Colin with more care and respect.” Bradley promised solemnly, looking every inch King Arthur. 

The young girl nodded. “Well, that’s all we ask. That you respect our Colin.”

“I will definitely do that in the future.”

The girl eyed him with steely eyes before nodding and, with arms folded firmly across her chest once more, marched off – satisfied at having given Bradley a piece of her mind.

Bradley turned to Colin, wide-eyed. “What the hell….”

Colin held up his other hand to silence him, his eyes following the little girl until she was a good distance away. Then he dropped the hand covering his mouth and burst out laughing.

Bradley couldn’t help himself, he joined in the laughter. They were soon laughing so hard that tears ran down their cheeks and they leaned helplessly against each other.

“Christ Col,” Bradley gasped between laughs, “oh my god, your fans….”

Colin wiped his eyes, gasping for breath as he tried to control his laughter. “Small town….boy.... makes good. You don’t mess.... with the home boy, Bradley.”

Bradley turned to look at Colin, wiping his eyes. Colin was looking back at him, eyes creased in laughter, a wide smile stretching from cheek to marvelous cheek.

“God Col, I have missed you – I’ve missed this, so much. The laughter. I’m glad I came up here…for a drive.”

Colin shook his head, wiping his eyes. “You’re an idiot, James. But I’m glad you’re here too. Although how I’m going to explain this to my mam and da…”


End file.
